


Teach My Feet To Fly

by thegr819



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Codependent Hockey Friendships, Cuddling, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Physical Affection In Platonic Male Friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 04:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17257652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegr819/pseuds/thegr819
Summary: There isn't much that Connor wouldn't do for Dylan. Even pretend to be his boyfriend while trying not to embarrass himself too badly in front of Dylan's hot older brother.





	Teach My Feet To Fly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueorangecrush](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueorangecrush/gifts).



> Hey BOC! Thank you so much for all the hard work you've put into making Hockey Holidays something special, and I hope this makes you smile a bit, for all that it was a bit last-minute. Thank you for trusting me with this little project! This was one part overwhelming Connor McDavid feelings, one part me falling in love with Ryan Strome's smile, and one part funny stories from real life that feel like fanfic, all mixed together into a big cauldron with some chocolate and hot cider and holiday baking and good vibes, in the hope that out would spring a satisfactory fic. This came out as a lot more codependent Connor and Dylan friendship than planned, but I hope it can be appreciated anyway.
> 
> Title credit goes to Joni Mitchell
> 
> Set during the 2017 off-season, after the Oilers lost to the Ducks in the playoffs and then traded for Ryan Strome.

There isn't a whole lot that Connor wouldn't do for Dylan. It's just, Dylan is his best friend. It feel like it's been them against the world forever, through the first time Dylan got dumped by a girl who thought he was just too invested in hockey to be invested in her and Connor crawling into Dylan's bed at 3AM on a road trip during the Big Gay Crisis (capital letters will always be needed there. Dylan has been his rock for what feels like forever, since before he had to be Connor McJesus, Savior of Canada. The weight of a whole country's rabid hockey fanaticism doesn't feel as heavy when he's got Dylan there for him letting him yell and complain for a while and then holding him and telling him it's okay. When Dylan tells him that his parents are getting on his case again about never bringing anybody to their big weekly family dinners—all the usual reasons, he's away too much, cares too much about hockey and not enough about her (whoever _her_ is this time), dating a hockey player is too much pressure—and there hasn't been anyone for him to bring. He doesn't mind, he isn't lonely, but his parents will always worry about Dylan. 

At face value, there isn't much that Connor can do about Dylan's parents. Not a lot that would be within the realm of a normal friendship, or even a normal codependent hockey friendship. But Dylan has done so much for Connor, on the ice and off of it. Connor wants Dylan happy, would do anything to give back to Dylan everything that Dylan has done for him. So when he says "what can I do?" it means exactly what he says. No unspoken "within reason" or "if I can manage it". All Dylan really wants is a sympathetic ear, someone to make vaguely comforting noises from the other end of the telephone and drive out to Mississauga the next morning with a hug and a coffee. Connor can do all that, but that won't make Dylan happy forever, won't get his parents off his case, and Connor doesn't expect to be able to rest easy until he can fix it. That's what Dylan always does for him, after all, he finds a way to fix it.

That's why, when he knocks on Dylan's front door with the promised coffee, dressed in his rattiest, softest sweater for optimal quality of comforting hugs, he also has an idea. "Do you want to bring me to dinner next time your parents ask?" It isn't as crazy as it sounds. Connor's parents are still pretty sure that he and Dylan are a couple with the number of times they've found the two of them asleep wrapped up in each other, no matter the number of times he's tried to correct them. "We won't actually say outright we're dating, just hug a lot like we always do and I'll call your mom Mrs. Strome and give her flowers and let them think whatever they want. When you find your dream girl you can act all confused at why they ever thought you weren't straight, and everyone gets to be happy". 

"That's a big ask, Davo."

"Not really, it's not like I'm just going to pass on a shot at your mom's cooking." It is a lot, but neither of them say it after that. They're past counting favours like that, as much as sometimes they both worry that they take too much. It works well like that, for them.

They don't have much to worry about as far and Dylan's parents' reactions are concerned. They knew Connor was gay before he even told his own parents, they've always been the most rational hockey parents of anyone Connor has ever played with, and they've already confirmed that they aren't going to be the type who are fine with the whole gay thing until it's their kid and the grandbabies panic comes out in full force. Ryan had taken care of that one for them, thank god. And there is where all of Connor's real worries come from. See, Ryan is hot. He looks enough like Dylan that it was weird as fuck the first time Connor found himself staring after Ryan as he talked them through a driveway hockey play, but there's so many little things that are so uniquely Ryan that Connor is going to have to tune out every Sunday evening until he flies out to Edmonton. It's in the way he smiles so brightly and so long that Connor can almost feel his face cramping in sympathy, the way he gestures all over with his hands as he talks, the comfortable and relaxed way that he holds himself and lets himself spread out into Connor's space without even thinking about how crazy he's driving Connor. Then again, he's staring down the barrel of a full season of being around Ryan pretty much constantly, maybe the exposure will do him good.

It doesn't.

Ryan opens the door with a sunny smile on his face, taking in Dylan's usual gangly awkwardness with a fond smile and letting his eyes wander to where Connor has an arm around Dylan's waist. As much as it's something they do in private, they tend not to hold each other like that in front of other people in case they start getting the wrong idea. But now that they want to give that impression on purpose, it's not that difficult to let the sitting around on the couch watching game tape habits slide out, and from the look that Ryan gives them they aren't doing too bad a job. Ryan smiles, a little weaker than usual, Connor's heart turns over in his chest, and Dylan pulls them a little closer together. "Our parents will be really happy to see you, Connor." Most of their friends call him Davo, but Ryan always calls him Connor in that soft, fond voice of his. It drives him crazy. 

"Ryan is in on the plan, he knows me too well for us to be able to sell it to him". Dylan shrugs into Connor's half-hug.

"And your parents don't?"

"They're too worried about me to do anything other than jump to conclusions. Besides, they don't know hockey guys—" punctuated by a wave of his hand that somehow encompasses the whole concept of "hockey guys"—"the way Ryan does".

"That makes sense, I guess."

"He pays more attention to you than they will, too. He picks up on things like that."

Connor hopes that his face isn't as red as it feels like it is, or at least that Dylan (or worse Ryan) isn't going to pick up on it. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you should give it a shot. Just maybe not in front of my parents."

Sure enough, Trish rounds the corner into the front entrance with arms outstretched for a hug, and Connor escapes having to think of what Dylan said. Just like Ryan said, she seems overjoyed to see him. She has the same beaming smile as Ryan and Dylan, though Dylan saves those smiles for when they matter and Ryan never seems to put them away. She pulls Connor in close and holds him to her chest just long enough that it starts to feel awkward before holding him at arms' length. "You've always been good to Dylan. I'm glad he isn't lonely." she says, and that seems to be that. He and Connor are shuffled into seats next to each other at the Strome family dinner table, positioned close enough together that it would be easy to grab Dylan's hand under the table. He does, mostly for reassurance but partly to keep up appearances, and glances across the table. Ryan is chirping Matty about something, leaning further and further back into his chair and waving his right hand about as Matty gets more and more riled up. It's a happy, domestic family moment and Connor wants to be part of it forever. He gets up, messing Dylan's hair affectionately, and offers to help Trish with the mashed potatoes.

It takes three weeks of Sunday dinners before Connor ends up alone in a room with Ryan. He's been smiling less lately, drifting in and out of the big bustling house like a ghost, and is now sacked out on the Stromes' living room couch like an abandoned ragdoll, staring blankly at a dark TV screen. Connor slides in next to him, not pressed hip to shoulder like he would with Dylan but with a gentle arm across the back of the couch, ready to hold Ryan if he looks like he'd let it. He's wearing one of his old Islanders caps, the bill drooping over his eyes. "Everything alright here?"

Ryan leans into Connor a bit and Connor takes the hint, letting his arm fall around Ryan and pulling him closer. He can't comfortably hold Dylan like this, though that doesn't stop him from trying. Dylan's too much taller than him, but he and Ryan are about the same height and Ryan fits comfortably under his arm and leans into his chest. "Just JT, you know? Shit was bad before the trade, but now it seems like everything anyone does is just stirring shit and I can't go hang out without hearing all the ways I fucked up." There's an annoyed huff that vibrates against Connor's ribcage, and he can feel Ryan's shoulders flex as he raises an arm to punctuate the point. "Hockey players are bullshit, man."

"Don't I know it." Connor has heard plenty of shit from every direction about the Oilers, though nothing as personal as whatever Ryan and Tavares have going on. He's only heard bits and pieces of it from Dylan, who had to balance venting to Connor until the urge to start punching people subsided with not airing Ryan's personal life all over.

Ryan laughs. It's not a happy laugh, exactly, but not as broken-down as he'd looked a few minutes ago. "You get shit, but you're you, you know?" Connor braces for another rant like he's heard from so many teammates over the years, about how he should be grateful for the shit that he hears on the ice because he's Connor McDavid and so feelings don't matter as long as he can kick their asses up and down the ice, but that isn't quite what he gets. "You're so easy to like. You're too fucking nice, and everybody knows it. The only people who can say that shit to you are bags of dicks and they know it, it's like kicking a golden retriever puppy or something. Me, they don't have to worry about it. I can be an asshole if I need to be, and they all know it."

And that makes an achingly painful amount of sense. He looks over at Ryan, their faces a bit too close together. "I think you're plenty easy to like. You don't need to decide how much you get to like yourself based on shit you hear from people looking for someone to blame."

That gets him a real, beaming bright Ryan-smile. "See, Connor? Too damn nice. I can't say I mind though." They don't get any further than that, but Connor hugs Dylan goodnight and walks to his car with a spring in his step. He gets Ryan's cell number from Dylan and sends him a quick note. _If things with Tavares get messy and you need someone to talk to, call me. It's the least I can do._

They don't see each other again for a week, but they text at least once a day about this and that. It's mostly lighthearted, but after a few days Ryan sends a _I can't believe this shit_  followed by some gossip about Ryan's now-ex-teammates on the Islanders that Tavares had relayed specifically knowing it would sting Ryan. A day after that, Connor decides to return that trust with a lighthearted complaint about some snarky comments he's been getting from another friend-of-a-friend at the rink where he and Dylan have been practicing. Ryan almost immediately texts back a  _Want me to come by and glare at him for a bit?_ Connor turns him down for now, but suggests that they meet up and skate together at least once before the summer ends. It's comfortable, happy, and he can't wait for the next Sunday dinner.

He gets up the courage to ask Ryan to kiss him at the end of July, and Ryan says "I was hoping you'd ask" as he leans in. They have their first kiss there on the Stromes' couch. The TV is playing CFL highlights on mute, and neither of them can be bothered to reach for the remote to turn it off.

Ryan comes skating with him and Dylan at least a couple times a week, and Dylan smiles that big sunny smile that Connor is used to seeing on Ryan's face even as he mimes puking on the ice whenever he decides that Connor and Ryan are being too sappy. Ryan is still going to find his own place in Edmonton, get his feet on the ground himself, but he picks a place near Connor's and they've already started planning breakfast dates. Connor puts his usual calls to Edmonton on speaker phone when he goes over his summer training so that Ryan can pitch in, and he gets used to Ryan's smile following him around all day. Somehow, it doesn't seem like such a bad thing now that he gets to kiss it whenever he wants. Ryan hasn't been visiting Tavares as much either now that he's got Connor taking up all his time, and Ryan flinches less and less every time his phone buzzes with a text. Every time Connor drops Ryan and Dylan off with a kiss for Ryan and a hug for both of them, he can't help feel like things are looking up for both of them.

It takes Trish and Chris until just before they have to fly out for training camp to notice that Connor is as wrapped up in Ryan as he is in Dylan most dinners, and Trish pulls him aside with a stern look on her face. Connor braces himself, and remembers the speech he'd been mentally tweaking since Dylan first told him to "go for it".

"Dylan's my best friend, you know? He's got Brinksy, of course, and Mitch, but he's got me too and I know that he'll never have to be lonely with me around. Some day he'll find a nice girl and settle down, and all those things you always hope your kid will get to have, but until then he's got friends that are just as good." he takes a deep breath. "I'm just glad he told me to go for it with Ryan, because he makes me really, really happy. You have really great sons, Mrs. Strome".

She shakes her head. "Call me Trish. I should have guessed it was something like that, anyway. So you and Dylan are just friends, and now Ryan is... what?"

Connor lets out another breath, this time of relief. "For now, we're just calling it 'boyfriends'. It works for us". Thankfully, that earns him a smile from her.

"Well then, I'm glad to have you in the family. Just..." a pause, looking for words. "I'm still trusting you with Dylan, okay? He doesn't do well alone."

Connor helps with the mashed potatoes, and sits next to Ryan with their hands tangled together under the dinner table. Across from them, Dylan is telling a story about something stupid they did together when they played for the Otters, and Connor knows he has something here that he's going to try to keep forever. 


End file.
